Big Brothering the Big Brother
by CamsthiSky
Summary: In which Jason and Damian both have feelings and Dick is a bigger idiot than Jason thought.


**anonymous asked: "Who the hell did this to you" Jason & Hurt! Damian**

 **This has a lot more Dick Grayson in it than I had originally thought it would. It's also about 1k longer than I was planning. But it's 2 am, and things got out of hand.**

* * *

When Jason walks into the manor's kitchen at three in the morning, he doesn't expect to see Damian, much less a Damian bleeding through bandages wrapped around his arm. For some reason, the sight of it has Jason grabbing Damian's wrist and growling, "Who the hell did this to you?"

Damian's immediate reaction is to scowl, tug his arm out of Jason's grasp and closer to his chest, and back up a few steps. "I am fine."

Jason snorts, but it's humorless. He takes a step back and tries to swallow down the anger rising in his throat. "Wasn't the question, kid. Spill."

"It was—" Damian clears his throat, "It was a worthless thug. I was distracted while on patrol. Careless."

Jason blows out a slow, controlled breath, wondering if this is how Dick feels whenever any of them get hurt. He scrubs at his face, tired suddenly. Never before has this happened, where Jason somehow finds Damian and _gets angry_ for him. _At_ him, sure. All the time. Kid's a downright brat most of the time, and Jason doesn't have the best control over his temper when it comes to Bruce and his brood.

The thing is, Damian doesn't really do _careless._ Sure, from Jason can tell, Damian's pride can get in the way, but the brat had said _distracted,_ meaning there's something Jason's missing.

And Jason isn't sure he wants to know. He's already too invested.

"Just make sure you have Alfred look over it or something," Jason murmurs, waving a hand behind him as he walks away. He thinks that maybe he needs to go hit something for a few hours. "Don't want your arm falling off."

Jason hears Damian mutter something about already having seen Alfred under his breath, but Jason leaves it alone. He makes his way to the gym, which, of course, is occupied.

Dick is completing a routine on the floor mat just as Jason walks in, and Jason fully expects a smile and the whole bit, but from what Jason can see, Dick looks tired. Angry. Ready to hit something. Not an uncommon look for Dick Grayson, but seemingly a lot rarer nowadays with Damian around. Although, Jason thinks about Damian's arm and the blood seeping through the bandage, and he thinks that maybe Dick already knows about it and is using gymnastics as a distraction.

"Shouldn't you be in bed or something?" Jason asks once Dick finishes another set of flips. He leans against the wall near the door, arms crossed over his chest.

Dick isn't even fazed, though. He just grabs a water bottle and a towel, wiping his face before he says a very quiet, "No," and takes a sip of water.

"You're in a good mood," Jason huffs. "Does it have anything to do with the baby assassin in the kitchen with a bandage on his arm?"

Dick slams down the water bottle, lets the towel drop to the floor, and positions himself for another routine. Dick takes a running start before he starts a series of complicated flips Jason can barely keep up with. His body twists and tucks and rolls, and Jason sometimes finds himself getting caught up in Dick's skills at times like these. Dick's a performer, and Jason remembers a time when he would smirk at the guy he'd thought of as his older brother and ask if he'd teach him a few tricks.

And back then, too, when Robin was still magical and everything didn't completely suck for a few moments, Dick would grin at him, forgetting all about Bruce and their fights and he would perform. Lithe and fluid and _magical_ , Jason had thought. He'd wanted to do those things, too.

He hadn't been able to, of course. He'd figured out some things, sure, but he couldn't do it the way Dick had. Eventually, Jason had figured out his own way to be Robin, not exactly emulating Dick, but not straying as far as he could have. It was a weird middle of flips and taunting and plain old _fighting._ His street smarts had come in handy a lot.

But right now? Dick doesn't have any of that grace. He's tense and _distracted,_ and Jason isn't exactly surprised when Dick botches his dismount, cursing up a storm that would normally have a certain butler washing his mouth out with soap as he breaks his fall with a few somersaults.

Dick ends up flat on his back, and Jason finally pushes off the wall. He looks down at Dick. "What even happened?"

Dick doesn't meet his eyes and Jason notes the bags underneath his eyes. "I was distracted, and Damian suffered for it."

"Uh huh," Jason says. "The brat said the same thing, except he said that _he_ was the one distracted."

"Well, he was wrong," Dick tells him, voice tight with restrained emotion.

"More like covering for you," Jason says, finally understanding what's actually going on here. That twitch of anger rises again, sensing a target to be directed towards, but Jason forces it down. He's not here to throw blame, or get invested—though, he thinks that last one is already out the window. Jason licks his lips. "You're tired, and you went on patrol anyways."

"Yeah," Dick whispers. "And now Damian's hurt, and it's my fault."

"He was watching your back," Jason guesses. Dick doesn't say anything, but his jaw twitches, so Jason takes that as a yes. "What were you even doing out there anyways? You know better than anybody that patrolling when you're not at your best is the easiest way to get killed."

Dick pushes himself into a sitting position and runs a hand through his hair. "I may not have been in the best mental state. I thought I was okay enough to go out, but I wasn't. And now Damian's-"

Dick cuts himself off, staring at the mats.

Jason sighs, plopping down on the floor next to Dick. "So, you screwed up. What are you going to do about it?"

"I've already tried apologizing," Dick says, hunching his shoulders in a way that makes him look small, and Jason doesn't like it. It brings back that wave of emotion he'd felt earlier for Damian, and he's got that urge to hit something again. Maybe Dick's face, if he keeps this up.

"Yeah?" Jason asks. "And how did that work out for you?"

Dick shrugs. "He called me an idiot and told me to take better care of myself."

Jason raises an eyebrow. "The Demon Brat did?"

"He's not so bad once you actually get to know him, Jay," Dick says, something quiet and fond in his voice. There's a different look about him now that he's talking about Damian and not his own mistakes, and Jason idly wonders if Dick has ever looked quite that happy when thinking about anyone else, or if it's just Damian. Dick bites his lip. "You should stick around. Maybe you'll get the chance."

Jason huffs out a laugh. "Yeah. Not gonna happen. As soon as Bruce is back from whatever country he's in now, I'm out of here. I've only really been staying because of Alfred's cooking."

Dick is giving him the saddest look Jason's ever seen. "Right," he says quietly, like he'd just had all his hopes and dreams torn to pieces.

Jason swallows and thinks that whatever's been going on with Dick is a lot deeper than just being tired and accidentally getting Damian hurt. But Jason's never been an expert on Dick Grayson, so he doesn't know what to do about it.

He's actually not sure that if he should even try.

And yet, Jason hunkers down for the long haul anyways. There's something about this situation that has Jason on edge and he doesn't like it much. At all, really. But Damian's hurt and covering for Dick, and Dick's a complete mess, blaming himself for Damian getting hurt.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Jason says.

Dick grins, but there's still something off about it. "Yeah. I've been told that once or twice before."

"Well it's _true_ ," Jason says, feeling his expression turn serious. Dick sobers, too, and Jason stares down at the mats. "Look, if you're gonna think about it at all, think about it like this. If it had been Damian or Tim in your place, you wouldn't have wanted them on patrol, right?"

"Yeah," Dick says, slow and quiet. "But Damian didn't know, and I wasn't in the right head space."

"Well tell someone next time," Jason tells him, nudging Dick's arm with his foot. Dick doesn't even twitch. "And if the baby birds were the reason _you_ got hurt, because they were tired or distracted or something—"

"I wouldn't want them beating themselves up," Dick finishes, flopping back onto his back. He stares up at the ceiling a moment, before saying, "When did you get so smart, Jay?"

"Jokes on you," Jason snorts. "I've always been smart."

Dick smiles. "I meant _big brother_ smart."

Jason recoils. "Excuse me?"

There's a soft sigh that comes from Dick's mouth, and it almost sounds _exasperated_ , like it's Jason being the idiot, not Dick. "You know what I mean, Jason. Big brother smart. Wise. Experienced in the art of big brothering even your big brother."

"I'm out of here," Jason mumbles, his face burning—he's not sure whether it's anger or embarrassment, but he's absolutely _not_ here for this shit. He curses himself for getting too invested, and he pushes himself to his feet.

Dick doesn't move to stop him, seeming to sense that this conversation is over. Jason starts to walk away, but he hesitates at the door. Turning back around, he stares at Dick, lying sprawled out over the mats, still staring at the ceiling.

"Starting to get creepy," Dick tells him.

Jason makes up his mind. "Go to sleep, Goldie. I'll see you at breakfast."

And then he's out the door, and he absolutely refuses to turn around, because he's sure if he does, he'll see Dick grinning like a lunatic, and then he might _actually_ leave. Runaway to a safe house or something. But he doesn't look back, and he doesn't leave the manor.

When he steps out in the hallway, Jason takes a deep breath and starts to go for the stairs, only to stop and stare at the kid who's leaning against the wall just outside the door to the gym. His arm is still bleeding, but his dark gaze is steady when he meets Jason's eyes.

"Thank you," he says quietly, and before Jason can respond, he pushes away from the wall and heads into the gym with an annoyed, _"Grayson."_

Jason watches him go, something in his stomach churning. He ends up tossing and turning most of the night, hardly getting any sleep at all. He's not sure what he's feeling anymore, and this whole situation has brought something up in him that Jason hadn't really known existed. Eventually, he falls into a fitful sleep.

He's not sure what to make of any of this, but when Jason gets up for breakfast the next morning and sees Dick and Damian arguing playfully back and forth, and Tim exhaustedly sipping at a coffee, speaking quietly with Alfred—well. For the first time in a long while, Jason thinks he might want to stay and figure it out.


End file.
